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#I don't really know what my point here is
randomshyperson · 1 day
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The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.
Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k
A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3
-&-
The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.
Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”
Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 
“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”
“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”
The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.
“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”
Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.
-&-
A stupid tree.
A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.
That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.
She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.
But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.
When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.
She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.
“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”
It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.
Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.
“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 
She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 
Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.
“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”
You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”
She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”
Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.
A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 
Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 
You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 
Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 
Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.
“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 
No. No thinking about this, not now.
She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.
She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 
“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.
“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.
“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.
“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.
“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.
Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.
Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 
You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.
When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.
“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 
There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”
But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.
“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.
For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.
“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”
You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 
“Can you use your words?”
“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”
She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 
But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.
“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.
“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.
It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.
The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.
To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.
Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.
“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”
“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”
You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 
Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 
“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 
Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 
Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 
It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.
She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.
“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.
“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 
As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.
“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”
Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.
She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.
“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”
You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.
“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.
You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.
Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.
“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 
“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 
“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”
You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.
Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.
Some old habits never die.
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a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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sparkling juice
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words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad
“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.
“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.
“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.
“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.
“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.
you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”
“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.
rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.
“wanna try some juice with me baby?”
“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”
you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”
“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”
“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.
“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”
rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.
“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.
“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”
“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”
“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”
“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”
“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”
“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.
“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”
“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”
“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.
“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.
“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.” 
you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.
“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.
“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”
“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”
“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.
“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”
“mhm.”
“and we have been dating for over a year now.”
“yes.”
“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.
“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.
“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.
“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.
“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”
“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.
rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.
“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.
“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.
“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..
“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”
“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.” 
“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.
“okay.” you say.
rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.
“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.
he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.
you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.
rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.
“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”
“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.
“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.
“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.
“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.
“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”
“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.
he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.
“i think im close.” you say.
“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.
your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.
you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.
rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.
“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.
“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.
-- six months later --
“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen. 
“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.
you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.
“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.
rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”
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imfinereallyy · 2 days
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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theminecraftbee · 1 day
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Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?
He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--
--then turns a corner and leaps back.
"You," Wels hisses.
Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.
"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"
Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.
"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.
On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.
"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."
The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!
Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.
"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."
The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!
...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.
He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.
"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.
I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.
"What," Wels says.
The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.
"What," Wels says again.
Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.
"Dude," Wels says.
I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.
Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.
"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.
You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.
"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."
Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.
"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.
That makes it worse, Helsknight says.
"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."
Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.
"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."
I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.
When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.
"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.
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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 3 days
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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 ౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆
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synopsis: Tartaglia shares you with your mutual friend: Zhongli, and you practically get tossed around for a whole night
tags: 3some, no protection, double penetration, vulgar, explicit
wrd cnt: 1.6k
a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!
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Tartaglia and Zhongli have a very interesting... friendship? You've heard much about it and you've been in contact with Zhongli for some time as well, as mere acquaintances.
One night, you're on your phone and get a text message from your lover Childe. He was getting a few drinks with Zhongli at a bar in Liyue.
You practically freeze and don't know what to respond, as he asks if you'd be willing to have a three way with Zhongli??...how drunk is he? You and Childe have a very untraditional sexual relationship so this wasn't too much of a surprise to you, you trust eachother.
How did they even get to this point in a conversation, you wonder.
You change into more suitable garments under a robe, waiting for someone to come home. After not too long, you hear the keys jingle in the doorknob, suddenly you're even more nervous than before and you see the door open; Childe walking in with Zhongli behind him.
"There she is!" Childe says to Zhongli, enthusiastic as ever as he comes over to you on the couch, kissing you before sitting down.
Zhongli follows and sits next to you, legs crossed.
"Baby, guess what!". He asks.
"Hm?" You reply.
"Our friend Zhongli here, well...I feel bad for even saying it, he's a virgin." Childe says, laughing…giggling like a little school girl.
"Was that really necessary to inform?" Zhongli asks, his palm hitting his face.
You eyes widen, you almost think he's lying.
Zhongli would never strike you as such, sure he's a gentleman but he doesn't seem to strike as incredibly inexperienced.
"Since we're all on the same page, I thought you could show him what he's missing", Childe says, his hand rubbing your inner thigh, as it's draped above his leg.
You turn to Zhongli, putting a hand on his upper thigh,
"I'd love to". You reply.
As if on que, his face turns bright red.
"Stand up", Childe demands.
And you do so, knowing where this is going.
"Make our guest a little more comfortable." He says.
You kick Zhonglis foot to the side, uncrossing his legs; giving yourself a seat. His breathe is already heavy, as he feels you straddle him.
Childe moves closer to two of you, sitting right next to Zhongli and you on top of him.
"Show him your pretty figure, my love."
You pick up Zhonglis hands, making him pull the robe open and reveal yourself to him.
The knot is broken and shortly after your rob falls to the floor; showing your black lingerie.
The lace barely covering your nipples, and a small peice of silk attached to ribbon holding up a small barrier to your pussy, strapped to garters that ran up your thighs; Zhongli eyes on every inch of you now.
"What do you think Li? She's so pretty, isn't she?"
Before Zhongli has time to answer him; Childe grabs the man’s face, moving it towards his own. He brings Zhonglis lips towards his, slipping his tongue into his mouth and biting his lip. "You go both ways yeah? It's the most fun like that." Your lover says, as you watch them exchange spit.
Childe then gives you an even more passionate kiss, as your hand reaches to Zhonglis collar; pulling him into you and dancing with his tongue as you feel his hands running up and down your body.
You break your kiss, and Childe stands up. immediately lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder, causing you to laugh.
Zhongli follows the two of you into your bedroom, disoriented and watching you get thrown onto the bed. You remove Zhongli's clothing while Childe has already ripped off his own. You sit on the bed, as the two men hover over you. You pull down Zhongli's pants, and watch his cock spring up.
You gawk at it a little, it was bigger than you thought.
"Go on Li, don't you wanna fuck that pretty mouth? She's practically drooling for you, aren't you, baby?"
You nod, and Zhongli holds the back of your head, gently pushing your face into him. You lick the entirety of his length, feeling the veins on your tongue.
Not wanting Childe to feel left out, your right hand finds his member, pumping it as you suck off Zhongli.
You look up at him, watching his head fall back as he moans for you.
The sounds of your wet mouth pleasing him almost mask the ones of Childe and Zhonglis lips against eachother. It didn't bother you, frankly it made you want both of them even more.
You feel Zhongli's massive cock twitch in your mouth, as his leg twitches and his grip on your hair tightens.
Suddenly, he pulls your mouth off him, spilling himself over your chest, some drops even hitting your face.
Childe laughs, "Already? You really are a virgin." He teases
Zhongli's eyebrows furrow as he gives Childe a look, before hearing you hold back a laugh.
"And what are you laughing about sweetheart?" You hear from Zhongli, a shift of tone in his voice.
You only laugh, looking at both of them while you lick the cum off your face with your fingers.
Childe lowers him self, picking you up and scooting you back on the bed. He gets on top of you, and licks Zhongli's cum off your chest, removing the top of your outfit and revealing your chest.
"Well don't just stand there." Childe mocks, pulling Zhongli by the neck and facing him to your cunt.
You can tell he's more comfortable now, boldly pushing your legs apart, and removing the cover on your lingerie.
Childe finished cleaning your tits, and guides Zhongli into licking your pussy.
"Make sure you suck right here Li, she fucking loves that." Child coos while rubbing your clit. You watch as Zhongli puts his fingers inside you, and his tongue finds your sensitive bud, sucking on it softly.
He's better than you thought, and his fingers feel so good inside you.
You can't help but wrap your hand in his long hair, pushing his face against you cunt, grinding on him while Childe puts his cock into your mouth, as he feels the vibrations of your muffled moans.
After some time, you can feel yourself coming so close, your hand grips the sheets while your grind yourself on Zhongli's face, tears forming in your eyes from your lovers throbbing dick fucking your mouth, slapping the tip of his length on your tongue.
Zhongli's face is buried inside your cunt, his hands holding your thighs as they squeeze the sides of his face. He devours you like he's starving, and Childe is already cumming inside your mouth. All the stimulation causes you to release all over Zhongli's mouth.
"So sweet y/n, give me more...", Zhongli whispers. To your surprise, he's lapping up all the cum spilling out of you.
Childe watches the both of you, his cock even harder now.
"You like this baby? We're nowhere to done yet." Childe urges Zhongli to pick you up, which he does with such ease.
You feel Childes chest on your back, his cock snug against your bare ass, as Zhongli holds you up by the waist. Your arms wrap around him and his cock is rubbing against your folds.
You feel Childe kiss down the back of your neck.
Your face is so close to Zhongli, you can feel his breath on you; you couldn't take it anymore. You put your lips on his and he's eager to wrap his tongue around yours. You trial your lips down his face, now on his neck. You hear his small groans, and your heat grows even more.
Suddenly, you feel the weight of Childes large palm smack your ass, you moan, right into Zhongli's ear.
Childe pulls you back by the neck, so he can whisper into your ear, "Don't forget who you belong to now, or you'll have to beg me to stop reminding you."
"Maybe you should remind me anyways." You reply, looking into Childes eyes.
He doesn't respond to you, but to Zhongli:
"Li, don't stop until I tell you to, yeah?" Zhongli nods softly, lowering you down on his cock. Sultry moans escape your mouth, he feels even bigger inside you than in your mouth.
You'd think you'd regret talking back to your love, but fuck does it feel good to have Zhongli pound you, his veiny cock feels so good inside inside.
That's until you feel Childe insert himself into your hole, at the same time. Both of their cocks stuff you so full, to the point your moans become breathless. They move at such different paces, Zhongli is rougher than expected, pounding his cock inside you and feeling your cunt tighten around him, while Childe slowly fucks you, but he stuffs you so deep it drives you insane.
You can't hold anything back anymore, you're screaming for both of them to stop, creating white rims around the base of their cocks.
"Mmm...fuck, Zhongli, please I can't cum anymore please.." He only speeds up, your pleads turning him on even more.
"I'm sorry dear...take it up with your lover."
Zhongli says.
"You've already cum so much, what a little slut...I warned you didn't I?"
"Childe-!... please", you beg, hoping for some mercy.
"You can take it baby, look how much fun he's having stuffing this little pussy." He says, spanking you again and watching you jump.
It feels like an eternity has passed by, and Zhongli and Childe are still rutting into your sore little cunt, grunting and moaning at how tight you wrap around their throbbing cocks. You feel them start to get sloppy, just rutting into you with no thought. Not long after, you feel Zhongli's hot liquid coating you, followed by Childe warm, thick ropes. Their cum getting mixed inside you and dripping down to coat you all.
Zhongli's head drops down to your shoulder, as his breath slowly stabilizes.
Childe begins to chuckle, and you hear a pop sound as both of them remove themselves from you, more and more cum spilling out onto the floor. “Well that was one hell of a first time huh?." He says to Zhongli, who’s utterly exhausted.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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mayakern · 1 day
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hiiii it's me! devin! ur favorite!
maya is still banned from doing big business things on social media while she takes time to rest and detoxify from the poison that is running social media full time for ten years. everybody clap! yay!
i'm here to share some info on our button-up shirt and dress preorders!
as many of you already know, i lost my anti-preorder campaign due to the high minimum per design. there's been some confusion and uncertainty. carsyn's doing her best but preorders are overwhelming and i have some time today
SO TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS:
how close are you to hitting the minimum goal for the button-up shirts and dresses?
not close lol. as of 4/26 we're at about 8% funded. i refuse to panic until after may 3rd
why the funeral design?
the funeral design won our design poll
initially we were going to run preorders for two designs: funeral as well as astronauts. when we got news that the minimum would be 400 garments per design (we're able to spread that across the button-up shirts and dresses) we decided to cut back to one design. we're really not big enough to expect 800 orders on an $80-90 item
why not another design?
another design did not win the design poll
what would have been chosen other than funeral or astronaut?
deadly florals, hiss from a rose, microorganisms, and hands were all the top placers in the design poll after funeral
can you do solid color?
yes
why didn't you do solid color?
you can buy a solid color button-up shirt or dress from anywhere. the plan has always been to introduce these garments in solid color after their initial introduction
...so can you do solid color?
we will consider doing solid color preorders if these preorders bomb
how much would solid color cost?
probably the same. it's not much cheaper. it's faster to make tho
how much would the ecovero viscose cost instead of cotton?
maybe like $10 cheaper
it's really soft tbh but it's a different weave from the viscose for the skirts. it's my number one fabric for the button-ups but alas the cotton fandom won for now
what happens if preorders bomb?
we cancel and refund all preorders.
maybe we'll try again with a different design or with fewer features after we have some time to decompress from the nightmare that is running preorders (can you tell i hate preorders). if they bomb bad enough we may completely nix patterned button-up shirts and dresses. we don't know yet!
does that affect the picnic top?
the picnic top is completely separate. since it's made out of a different fabric it has its own minimum, so it will not be affected by button-up shirt and dress preorders
and like, to be totally honest, it's way cheaper to produce. we can eat some of the cost and just make them. they're small enough to store easily and they're at a lower price point so we can expect to sell them after we receive them, like the wrap tops
btw, we have other ready-to-ship things already in production. we've been working on a whole secret project. surprise!
why did you launch preorders for the button-up shirt/dress at the same time as the picnic top?
the picnic top sample came in with the button-up dress sample and it needed very little alteration. also maya liked it. also we may be developing an entire line inspired by the picnic top so keep an eye out for that next spring
why is the new button-up shirt more expensive than the old button-up shirt?
it's more expensive to make
why is it more expensive to make?
this is a different factory from the one we used before. it's more expensive because they pay their staff a higher wage and likely have other costs
this is a different fabric from the one we used before. it's a stretch cotton with a GOTS certification
this is imported from a different country from the one we used before. turkey has much higher import fees to the US
what is a GOTS certification?
the short version is the fabric itself is more environmentally friendly and produced with more fair labor practices than standard cotton
you can read the long version here here
can you do fulfillment from somewhere other than the US?
we're working on it. it probably won't lower prices tho, since fulfillment centers also cost money
anyway...
none of this is to shame someone for not preordering. groceries are expensive and things are tight, plus it kinda sucks to spend on a tight budget and not get what you ordered for a few months
(can you tell i hate preorders)
i think there's a lot of surprise since we've never done preorders on a single design before, and that's fair! we debated on doing a kickstarter but a) i hate doing kickstarters b) kickstarter takes a percentage of sales and our profit margin on these is already lower than we'd like it to be
i'm tired and i can't remember anything else i wanted to say. i may answer any additional questions from my own tumblr (@punchyemblem and now i'm gonna get a notification that i'm gonna be jumpscared by) but carsyn will be handling most questions
also don't worry, when you say nice things we still show maya. also she's fine, she's just in her (forced and highly necessary and possibly permanent) limited social media era
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conflictofthemind · 2 days
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Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"
Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes
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I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.
In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.
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Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.
The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).
That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.
Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.
Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.
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Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.
I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.
But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.
He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.
It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.
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"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".
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grandlinedreams · 2 days
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|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily
|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),
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The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.
"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.
"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.
The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.
There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."
He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"
You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."
Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"
You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."
You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.
The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.
The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.
You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.
"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.
What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.
"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.
"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.
"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.
"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"
"No, I called you an annoying bitch."
"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."
He peers up at you. "What now?"
"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."
"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."
You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"
"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."
You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.
"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"
He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."
You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."
He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."
You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.
Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.
Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.
He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.
He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.
He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.
The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.
And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."
He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.
The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.
"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."
The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.
And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.
It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.
Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.
You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.
"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.
After all, what's one more vice?
In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.
"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"
To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."
Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"
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pinkyqil · 2 days
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I'm sorry
Lucy bronze x ona batlle x r
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Summary: childhood bestfriend to lovers to strangers
Warning: just toxic bestfriend, jealousy issues to many spelling mistakes for me too care for at this point in life
You and Lucy had always been together 24/7 has you both grew-up together like the childhood friends you're. Never letting go of one another. Always following each other, most people would think that you both were together.
"You've always felt attracted to lucy. Because of the way she treats you, always taking care of you getting the stuff she knows you'll need and most of all dealing with your massive sassy princess attitude.
Back in 2020 where she played for Manchester city around the covid out-break. You both decided to moving in together, always needing each other's company. After a while of living with lucy she finally confessed her feelings which you felt the same way.
Making you both finally official has most of your friends have been anticipating the moment.
You and lucy relationship had been going amazing. a little fights here and there but nothing to serious that would go way too far. Until she announced that she'll be leaving to play for Barcelona meaning you'll both have to do long distance until she comes for break or international duties.
Which you were okay with until now you've both been arguing way more recently all you ever wanted was for her to make more time on her busy schedule but she couldn't has they've been having game after game. Making you upset which would start random yelling match from the phone's.
"Another yelling match". said ona
lucy and ona had gotten really close for the past months. that she been playing for barca has she was found by her in the locker room crying from one of your arguments. Since then they've both gotten really close
"Yeah it just getting way worse and I don't think I know what to do".lucy said
"lucia I think we both know what you need to do" replied ona.
"but ona you know I can't I love her too much to do that she's been through everything with me all I want is to is too fix the holes in our relationship but nothing seems to work".
"I know but you can't keep pushing it like that do what best for both of you". ona told her while holding her hands.
That night you got a call from lucy which you weren't expecting.
cause it would have been really late for lucy which meant she was definitely up thinking about something but what she told you honestly couldn't comprehend.
She was breaking up with you over the phone from 1,137.96 kilometers away from each other that night you cried your heart out from the heavy feelings to now feeling empty.
You lost the love of your life the person that made you smile gave you whatever you needed that assisted you without asking you lost her.
And now feeling broken pices that no one could ever pick up again you hated this banging pain.
It been months since you're break up with lucy some people could've seen it from a distance but other's likewise.
it came shocking to both families who were sure that you both would have worked it out and get married in the future.
But they were wrong cause now she was with ona.
Ona is a pure soul nothing compare to you. you've tried hating her but couldn't the girl was way to nice for her own sake everyone around her loved her which you couldn't get that much what was so special about her but not you.
The last time you saw Lucy was around her vist back to england but instead of as lover you both we're now mere strangers who were once deeply inlove.
A/n : this has honestly sleeping in my drafts for the longest of time and I just got it done there's probably a lot of mistakes cause it wasn't proof read yet but other than that hope y'all enjoy this and don't forget that my request are open
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mariasont · 1 day
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Office Sleepover 2 - A.H
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a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall
im so down bad for him ugh
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments
wc: 3.2k
You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.
You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.
You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.
"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.
Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.
"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."
You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."
"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"
"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.
But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.
"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."
You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.
"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."
"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"
"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."
As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."
You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.
"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."
They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.
Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"
"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"
"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."
Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.
Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.
Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"
You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."
"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."
You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."
"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.
You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."
He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."
"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."
As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."
He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.
"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.
With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.
"What?"
"I said, I'm worried about you."
You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.
"Why?"
It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.
"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"
His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.
"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"
His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.
"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"
Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.
"What can I do to help?"
Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.
"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.
His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.
Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"
"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"
"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.
You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.
Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.
Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.
"There she is!"
You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."
Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"
Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.
"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."
You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.
You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.
Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.
"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.
"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.
"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.
She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.
"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"
You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.
"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.
"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."
Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.
"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"
"It's Hotch."
Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"
You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.
"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"
"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."
You shot Emily a thumbs up.
"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."
You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."
"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."
You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.
"Hey!"
She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.
"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."
"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."
Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."
"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.
"Heard that."
Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.
Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.
He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.
"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.
He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.
"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."
A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."
"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."
"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."
Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.
"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"
He raised his brow. "Both?"
"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."
Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.
You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.
Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.
A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"
"No thank you."
"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."
"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."
He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.
"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"
He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."
A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.
"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."
The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.
"You're a great boss."
"I like you too, Agent."
"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."
As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.
"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."
"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."
He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.
Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).
"Goodnight, Aaron."
He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."
He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"
And who was he to deny you anything?
taglist: @chronicallybubbly
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strawberrymochin · 3 days
Text
Springtime Fushiguros♪
Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.
Summer daze :- cozy afternoon naps and picnic with gojo and the fushiguros
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You cleared away the empty cans into a plastic bag, putting them aside, then closing the lid of the emptied bentos, you prepared this morning.
Gojo streched himself on the blanket, he spread earlier, looking much chirpy and vibrant.
Last few days has been really hectic for Gojo. The higher ups are really driving him up the wall, building up his hatred even more. You didn't want him to get stressed because of those shitty people, thus you recommend to spend this holiday in mizumoto park having a picnic day.
You woke up early today, making different items, including a lot of foods that has a slight sweet hint to it, not forgetting to carry extra candies for him. You also made Megumi and Tsumiki's favourite foods so no one's left out. You are not that of a picky eater, so all these items were enough to please you.
'Hey, that was mine!!' Megumi whines as gojo picks a candy that was particularly reserved for Megumi.
'So what? I paid for it.' Gojo flicks an eyebrow at him, scoffing in superiority.
'That doesn't counts, give it back to me!'
'well, I've already popped it into my mouth. It has my saliva over it....still want it back?'
'Y/n-san!!' Megumi calls for you, 'oh come on 'toru! Teasing Megumi is not considered to be a part time hobby.'
Gojo straightens up, flicking his sunglasses with a swift movement. 'call me that again?'
You couldn't reciprocate for a moment that seemed long. 'um....'toru..?'
He looked at you for a while, intently and steadily, then layed down with a soft chuckle. You couldn't process his response, maybe he found the nickname silly? Ahh I shouldn't have called him that. You smacked yourself mentally.
You were about to explain yourself that it was not something cheesy you made up with and just an involuntary action, when—
'megumi-chan you can have mine.' Tsumiki being the kind hearted angel she is, offers her candy to Megumi.
'Its fine 'miki, you have that, I've got some more of those for you guys. Here.' You hand out the candies to the kids. 'we will leave before evening, wanna have a nap till then?'
'yes!' chirps tsumiki, 'lay down then.' you shift your body weight, lying on the right side while your upper arm supports your head, using the left hand to patt the area beside you, indicating the kids to lay down.
Megumi was going to take the spot beside you, but gojo pulls him beside him instead. Megumi groans, trying to squirm to get out of gojo's grip and run to you. Unfortunately, he isn't strong enough to do that. You laugh a bit, as Tsumiki lays beside you.
Warm rays of sunlight pools over, through the crown shyness, slow breezes cause the branches of the trees, above you guys dance loftily. The sound of the birds, insects and the scent of soil forged a serene environment.
Gojo was fondled megumi's hair, while he slowly drifted in his dreamy slumber. Tsumiki was fast asleep too.
'what was that before?' you said softly keeping your voice low, not to wake the kids up.
'hm?'
'why did you make me repeat—'
'Cuz, i wanted to hear it again.'
'why? Do you think it's silly?'
'You know, what's the most melodic thing to my ears in this entire world?' he smiles softly. His blue eyes shone like the point where the sun rays meet the vast sea. 'It's my name from your mouth.'
You felt a thousand butterflies in your stomach. This simple confession felt more intimate than any subtle physical moments you've had.
He continues, 'Don't know much about nicknames, but you've surely made me silly.....in love.'
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So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.
So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.
So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)
Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.
Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.
To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.
Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.
And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)
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Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.
That I printed wrong.
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Twice.
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Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.
Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.
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And came up with a design for the cover.
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Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.
Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.
The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.
Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.
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Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.
Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.
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Teen Katai and teen Chuuya meeting as they go bail their respective idiot out of jail.
And over time start becoming friends, because this shit happens pretty regularly.
Chuuya: Glasses, damn you're early. What's he in for this time?
Katai: Nakahara, hey. Oh you know, the usual. There was a protest , a cop was harassing a kid and Kunikida decked him in the face.
Chuuya: whistles Impressive, how bad did Kunikida rough him up?
Katai: Cops nose was completely busted.
Chuuya: See at least your idiot gets thrown in here for cool shit. My dumbass decided go go violate a restraining order and go flirt with this poor woman.
Katai: wince Yikes, well if it's any consolation I have to go fill in the butt ton of paperwork from the incident.
Chuuya: Seriously?! That's fucked up, come here I'll help you with it.
Katai: Really? Thanks.
Chuuya: Don't mention it. Hmm why don't we go get some food once we're done and than come get em. Let em rot in there for a bit.
Katai: I dunno... That seems kinda mean.
Chuuya: This is 30 pages long and you're filling it out instead of him. Be a little mean once in a while.
Katai: You have a point, alright.
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somerandomdere · 19 hours
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Yandere! actor x crew member! g/n reader
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tags: fluff, slight? yandere themes (duh), you can tell I don't know much about how hollywood scandal works, it's my first fic pls feedback
Fame was everything to Gabriel, it's been his whole life. He was a nepo baby, he has seen the cameras the moment he was born. Blessed with a good face, filthy rich parents, and a flirtatious personality, he was everything ladies wanted in a man.
Until everything came crashing down.
He got into a huge scandal he wasn't even aware of. He was accused of sexually harassing a fellow co actress, when in fact he never laid a finger on her. Sure, he was a well known celebrity and has a history of sleeping around, but that doesn't mean he will force himself on someone without consent!
The scandal got so big he was defamed everywhere. His sponsors withdrew, his parents and friends wanted to cut ties with him, and his girlfriend cussed him out before leaving.
It wasn't him! But at this point, no one believed in him. He started being depressed, having suicidal thoughts, and contemplating on quitting his dream career.
Enter you. Beautiful, radiant you.
After a long day of carrying heavy sets and helping out around the set. You were exhausted, so you went out to breathe some fresh air and smoke. As you lit up your cigarette, the main actor of your current show, Gabriel, seemed to be crying. You wanted to smoke, but you couldn't just leave a crying man alone! and you did want some privacy while taking a puff
"Hey... you alright?" You genuinely asked.
You didn't know much about Gabriel's scandal, since you weren't very interested in the affairs of celebrities and thought that fans should just mind their own business.
And you were just here to make extra money, what's the worst that could happen? You'll be gone in no time anyways. He'll just quickly forget you.
"Hey um..." You started awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "I may not be the best person that can comfort, but you can talk to me. I'll listen."
You thought he would be suspicious of you, because of his celebrity status, but he ranted to you and cried. How he was misunderstood. How the people closest to him never believed in him. How he felt so hopeless after he lost everything.
You reached out to touch his hand. You let him know you understood. How painful this period of life will be and how it will all be fine after.
You told him to take a look around him. Look through a different scope, see the people who actually cares for him. You told him how your uncle never believed any of those rumors and took advantage of this to hire him.
He teared up, not from self pity this time, but from realisation. Maybe he should abandon those people who never saw his true self anyways. For the first time, he looked into your eyes. The sunlight danced over your eyes, it reminded him of the warmth his parents used to give him, before they got too busy.
Maybe that's when he fell for you. He couldn't really point out when he fell head over heels, but he can kinda figure he feelings sprouted here.
He came back, stronger than ever. His acting caused your uncle's movie grossing to skyrocket. It hit the box office, everyone was talking about his movie through social media, how he so accurately acted his role, to the point they shivered. He decided to take this opportunity to clear his name. Due to the how overwhelmingly successful his new movie was, people decided to believe him.
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"Y/N! My name was cleared!" He squealed into the phone. You sincerely felt happy for him and offered to celebrate with him.
He wouldn't let this opportunity go without a waste! He immediately said yes. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, and finally ask you out.
He will finally be yours, and you will finally be his.
@hana-no-seiiki
@lovverletters
@moyazaika
@yxami
@mightypossibly
@suiana
My inspos on how to write fics (and my fav fic writers!) PLS PLS PLS PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACKKK
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🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛
AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR REFUSING TO WATCH OVER MY SISTERS CAT?
please help me I'm having real trouble here.
So a couple days ago my sister found this little baby cat and decided to take it home to where she and her partner live, because the alternative would be letting it die and because she loves animals deeply.
The baby is only days old and it needs constant surveillance, something neither she nor her fiance can give because they work all day long. Here's where I come in.
Since I'm unemployed and don't really have much going for me at the moment, she asked me to go over to their house and take care of it from 8am til 8pm. Their house from mine is a 1 and a half hour bus & metro ride.
The thing is, she wants me to go and do that every single day, minus the weekends. She and her fiance had agreed to giving the cat elsewhere, I even have candidates from a Facebook post we made, waiting for a response. But suddenly she decided the cat is too cute and she wants to keep it.
I think it's unfair. Firstly, she didn't inform me of this (despite me asking all day long 'what should I reply to those messages?') until early afternoon where she asked me if I can come and watch the cat again the next day. Then she told me that she wants to keep it and when I said that I don't want to make a 2 hour trip back and forth every day she said that she wants to keep the cat but if she can't have the help she needs she can't.
This obviously made me feel guilty as hell, but here's the thing also. Isn't it unfair? Why would she keep a cat she doesn't even have the time for and mostly hand him over to me? I already have a cat I'm taking care of, albeit she's a big girl now. She will never have time for the cat and no one else she knows won't either, so the responsibility will always fall on me. They even have a trip planned and when I asked her what she's gonna do with the cat then, she said she was thinking of either handing it over to me or making me go over for the four days, which just bugs me wrong.
I do get the feeling I might be sounding really shitty. I feel shitty for feeling like this too. But I'm also anxious as hell about it. And this might be my avoidance disorder, which is why I'm asking you to tell me if I make a point or if I sound like the shittiest person alive? Please know I mean the kitty no harm, and I like him just fine, it just feels like a lot of weight on my shoulders, but also to be fair, my sister provides the milk and the box and the blankets and the feeding bottle.
So AITA?
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